CHAPTER 1: EMERWEN AND HER FATHER
STANDING UPON THE bridge that crosses the thin, quiet valley Vorima, Emerwen could see far as the ocean -- but never past.
Holding her shepardess' crook in her right hand, she used her left to scan accross the great island of Numenor and breathed
in deeply, yearning to taste the salty ocean so far away. From
this height, there was much to be seen and thought of; it was her favourite place to rest. She was young, very young,
and did not think of the burdens that would soon be lade accross to her. Looking up at the sky, she realized that eathe lady Sun
had already begun to rise above the Orrostar mountains in the east. Father was leaving! On a voyage to Middle-Earth.
Scrambling down the large rock on which she had stood, Emerwen rushed accross the large, fragrant pasture that she
often vissited, narrowly missing stray stones in the thick grass. Slipping her shepardess' crook into
a strap accross her back as she ran, she thought of her Father. He was a good man;
handsome and kingly by Numenorean standards, but very distant to Emerwen. When she spoke to him, or dared to touch him he
seemed aloof, dispondant to her. This is why she needed to see him, before he left to Middle-Earth.
Would he be more fatherly, loving if it was their last moment together? Last night he was silent, mapping out
the Bay of Belfalas on a large piece of parchment, stroking his long dark hair. He was not only disconnected from
his only daughter but also from his wife, Tar-Elastirne. She was a tall, delicate, slender woman withdark hair and soft,
grey eyes. They had once been in love, or so it was said but Elastirne could give Emerwen's Father, Aldarion the
king of Numenor no heir but Emerwen. Emerwen reached the city and then the harbour only just in time.
Her arms scratched from her wild tear through the bushes and Hair in tangles, she crept up across the pier
to the huge fleet of Numenorean Luntes. Her father, Mother, royal kin and many other men stood
waiting for the great ships to be ready. She ran up to Aldarion, her 4-year-old feet softly pitter-pattering on
the dock. He frowned, scorning her soiled face and attire. "Why are you here?" He glared down at her over his long nose.
"I wanted to see you, Atto."
"You are not welcome, dressed as you are to such an event. Go stand with your mother, I have more
important tasks to attend to." Squaring his shoulders, he turned his back to her and strode off to speaK to a small group
of men in armour. Iron. Emerwen could taste it on her tongue. Putting her fingers to her lips, they were stained
red; she had bit her tongue. Choking on tears, she rushed to her Mother's side and hid her
face in Elastirne's midnight blue gown. "Do not worry, my Child. Your father will return shortly. It
is merely an expeditional journey, and he has assured the people he will not tarry long in Middle-Earth." But it
was not this that bothered Emerwen. "Does he love us, Nana?" A single tear ran down her mother's pale cheek. Wiping it
away with a fold of her dress, she paused, watching her husband. "Yes, he does, Selde."
It would be five years before Aldarion would return from his voyage accross the sea.
STANDING UPON THE bridge that crosses the thin, quiet valley Vorima, Emerwen could see far as the ocean -- but never past.
Holding her shepardess' crook in her right hand, she used her left to scan accross the great island of Numenor and breathed
in deeply, yearning to taste the salty ocean so far away. From
this height, there was much to be seen and thought of; it was her favourite place to rest. She was young, very young,
and did not think of the burdens that would soon be lade accross to her. Looking up at the sky, she realized that eathe lady Sun
had already begun to rise above the Orrostar mountains in the east. Father was leaving! On a voyage to Middle-Earth.
Scrambling down the large rock on which she had stood, Emerwen rushed accross the large, fragrant pasture that she
often vissited, narrowly missing stray stones in the thick grass. Slipping her shepardess' crook into
a strap accross her back as she ran, she thought of her Father. He was a good man;
handsome and kingly by Numenorean standards, but very distant to Emerwen. When she spoke to him, or dared to touch him he
seemed aloof, dispondant to her. This is why she needed to see him, before he left to Middle-Earth.
Would he be more fatherly, loving if it was their last moment together? Last night he was silent, mapping out
the Bay of Belfalas on a large piece of parchment, stroking his long dark hair. He was not only disconnected from
his only daughter but also from his wife, Tar-Elastirne. She was a tall, delicate, slender woman withdark hair and soft,
grey eyes. They had once been in love, or so it was said but Elastirne could give Emerwen's Father, Aldarion the
king of Numenor no heir but Emerwen. Emerwen reached the city and then the harbour only just in time.
Her arms scratched from her wild tear through the bushes and Hair in tangles, she crept up across the pier
to the huge fleet of Numenorean Luntes. Her father, Mother, royal kin and many other men stood
waiting for the great ships to be ready. She ran up to Aldarion, her 4-year-old feet softly pitter-pattering on
the dock. He frowned, scorning her soiled face and attire. "Why are you here?" He glared down at her over his long nose.
"I wanted to see you, Atto."
"You are not welcome, dressed as you are to such an event. Go stand with your mother, I have more
important tasks to attend to." Squaring his shoulders, he turned his back to her and strode off to speaK to a small group
of men in armour. Iron. Emerwen could taste it on her tongue. Putting her fingers to her lips, they were stained
red; she had bit her tongue. Choking on tears, she rushed to her Mother's side and hid her
face in Elastirne's midnight blue gown. "Do not worry, my Child. Your father will return shortly. It
is merely an expeditional journey, and he has assured the people he will not tarry long in Middle-Earth." But it
was not this that bothered Emerwen. "Does he love us, Nana?" A single tear ran down her mother's pale cheek. Wiping it
away with a fold of her dress, she paused, watching her husband. "Yes, he does, Selde."
It would be five years before Aldarion would return from his voyage accross the sea.